


Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

by 4fandoms4ever



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Non-Con, More angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, and even more angst, but a totally happy ending so don't worry, non-explicit violence, probably non-con or dubious-con, recovering, the big four, trigger warnings apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4fandoms4ever/pseuds/4fandoms4ever
Summary: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder: A condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this half-finished, on my hard-drive for months now so I decided to slap together an ending and post it. I'm not exactly pleased with how quickly it tied up, but...*shrugs* Please let me know what you think.

 

 _Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,_ the doctors say.

_A condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world._

He laughs at the definition. It seems so _simple_ on paper.

He doesn’t talk to any of the therapists. What is there to say? His parents were murdered, he was kidnapped by a child abusing maniac, and no one will let him see his sister. No matter how many hospitals, foster homes, and families he goes through, there is no way to change what happened.

  _Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder_ , the doctors say.

He thinks maybe they’re right.

He thinks maybe he doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

 _He remembers falling_.

Sometimes he stands on the edge of the roof; staring down at the ground in morbid fascination. One step. Just one. And it all would be over.

 _Pathetic,_ a low, silver-tongued voice whispers in his ear. _I taught you better than this, Jack. How far the mighty have fallen. Doing my work for me are you? Finishing yourself off in my absence?_

He steps away from the edge.

* * *

 

He’s fourteen when everything changes.

New foster home, new family, new school. He knows the drill.

He keeps his head down, doesn’t talk to anyone, and keeps his grades average. A month in and everything is going fine.

When he runs—quite literally—into the cute blonde in the hallway ( _damn those are green eyes)_ , he stutters out a quick apology and then avoids her the rest of the day.

The sassy red-head ( _can hair seriously be an animate object?)_ he’s assigned to a group project with together eyes him up critically before turning her attention to the assignment. They ignore each other as much as possible.

The green eyed boy looks simultaneously both irritated and apologetic as he orders his dog ( _Toothless? Seriously?)_ to stop chasing people. As he leaves with the snarling black demon, he looks back at Jack over his shoulder; green eyes ( _strangely familiar, has he seen them before?)_ thoughtful. 

 

* * *

 

_He’s ice cold in his dreams. Ice cold and there’s a voice laughing._

 

* * *

 Jack thought he was over the flashbacks months ago. His dreams had been blissfully Pitch free and he’d stopped freezing up whenever he got near water ( _showering had been ridiculously embarrassing nightmares for months)_.  

Turns out, he’s still not okay. When that idiot beef of a jock decides it’s a good idea to dump a glass of ice water over his head in the cafeteria, Jack slips into the first panic attack he’s had in months.

_coldeyesdarkscreaming_

_he’s being dragged away by a pair of thin but surprisingly strong arms_

_icewatersilvereyesdontpleasestop_

_cold air hits him_

_stoppainpleasestopstopfallingfalling_

 “Shit. _Breathe_ ,” someone orders.

Jack obediently sucks in a breath of fresh air…

And quite promptly gags.

Someone pushes his head between his legs and begins rubbing circles on his back. Voices float over and around his head, not quite registering, but there. His vision continues spotting for about a minute.

He can still feel the cold fingers around his throat; the silky voice whispering gently in his ear; the freezing water engulfing him…

There’s a soft voice murmuring sweet nonsense while a pair of fingers run through his hair. Slowly, the room stops spinning. The dark void slowly recedes into the back of his mind. The tight band around his chest lessens. He opens his eyes.

A pair of green eyes are staring intently into his. ( _I know you I know you)_

“You gonna throw up?” the guy drawls.

Numbly, Jack shakes his head negative.

“You can stop petting him now, Punze,” the guy says, standing up. Jack blinks as he becomes aware of his surroundings.

Someone had taken him outside and put him on one of the benches. The blonde ( _greengreeneyes)_ is sitting next to him, running her fingers through his hair. The other teen ( _alsogreeneyesiknowthesegreeneyeswhoareyou?)_ —who had previously been kneeling in front of Jack—is now standing off to the side, eyeing him up suspiciously.

“Need the nurse?” he asks, finally.

Jack shakes his head again. “Just…gimme a minute,” he grits out.

The blonde uncaps a bottle of water and urges him to drink.

“It’s okay,” she says. “Happens to the best of us.”

He gives her a confused glance as he shakily takes the bottle from her.

“I know a panic attack when I see one. I’m training to be a nurse,” she clarifies. “Rapunzel Corona,” she adds. It takes him a moment to realize that’s her name. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Jack Frost,” he replies, pleased to find his voice is mostly under control. He glances at the green-eyed youth. “What happened?”

“You completely flipped out and began hyperventilating. Punze and I dragged you out here before you began puking everywhere.” The boy shrugs. “Henry Haddock,” he adds. “Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Jack snaps, suddenly irrationally irritated. He stands up, startling both Henry and Rapunzel, and immediately regretting it. His stomach _drops_ and his vision _swims_. As the sidewalk suddenly jumps up towards him, Henry reaches out and steadies him.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, disbelieving, as he forces Jack to sit back down. “How ‘bout you _don’t_ do that until we’re sure you aren’t gonna pass out on us?”

Jack glares. “I’m _fine_ ,” he repeats sulkily. Henry just gives him this looks that suggests that he’s questioning Jack’s intelligence.

Jack gets his breathing back under control ( _finally!)_ and pushes himself off the bench again. He’s relieved that the ground doesn’t move this time and his stomach is mostly okay. Moments later, after Jack shakes Rapunzel’s hand off his shoulder ( _touchtouchcontactcontactwantwant)_ and gives a few parting insults to Henry ( _seriously who is this guy?)_ , he takes off for the bathrooms.

He spends the next hour all but hiding.

 

* * *

               

The family of the month he’s been put with are pretty nonchalant about him being there. Jack supposes that it’s because of the many other foster children constantly cycling through their house. It’s pretty obvious that he’s an abuse case, so they basically let him keep to himself.

Regardless of how they treat him, he tries to stay out of the house as much as possible. It’s a small, nasty sort of place on the wrong side of town, and even though the parents are ignoring him, they’re pretty rough on the other kids. 

He spends more time taking detours home and exploring the city.

 

* * *

 

Jack manages to avoid Rapunzel and Henry for the next week, but—surprisingly enough—ends up spending his time with the mischievous red-head from his History Class. After being assigned yet _another_ project with her, she finally deems him worthy enough to know her name.

“Merida Dunbroch,” she announces, flopping into the seat next to him.

He drops his pencil. “I… _what_?”

“My. Name.” She blankly stares at him.

“Jack…Frost…?” he says back, haltingly.

She grabs his hand ( _contactcontactdontpleasetouch)_ and begins writing on it— _in pen (seriously, what??)_. He scrambles away, but she is surprisingly strong for someone so tiny. After a moment, she gives him his arm back.

“My phone number and address,” she says. “I’m not coming to _your_ house to put this project together.”

She stands up and struts off, leaving him gaping after her.

“You get used to it,” an amused voice murmurs.

He whips around. “Hofferson,” he says, nodding to the blonde, leaning on her desk.

“Frost,” she replies, amiably. She gave him a considering look. “She likes you.”

“I…what?”

“Merida,” Hofferson says. “She rarely talks to people. If she likes you then you’re alright. I’ll see you around.”

With those parting words, Astrid Hofferson takes off after Merida.

               

* * *

 

They get an A+ on their project. She asks him over to celebrate. He politely declines.

 

* * *

 

He’s getting better, he thinks. He’s gone a few months without a nightmare or episode. The doctors seem to think he’s improving.

He finds himself telling one of his therapists about Merida (“ _she’s terrifying and so is her hair, but she’s kinda nice actually i mean if you like scary”)_. His therapist is pleased and drones on about something to do with healing and moving on and all that crap.

But when Merida texts him, asking him over to hang out, he finds himself accepting.

 

* * *

 

Jack wasn’t quite sure just _how_ he didn’t know Henry Haddock and Merida were _cousins._ Considering their similar features, accents and the fact that they are in the all same clubs _should_ have clued him in _somewhere_.

Now he finds himself hanging out with both redheads, who are passionately arguing about something Jack lost track of a long time ago.

Merida’s mom (“ _call me Eleanor, dear”)_ smiles at him and winks. “They get like this all the time,” she says, as if letting him in on a private joke. “Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’m fine,” he says, and is surprised to find that it’s true.

She gives him cookies and offers to tell him stories about Merida when she was a baby.

Merida stops hackling Henry and shrieks at her mother in horror.

  

* * *

             

Now that he is hanging out with the “redhead cousins” it is impossible to continue avoiding Rapunzel. Not that he was avoiding her. He wasn’t.

“You’re avoiding her,” Merida says, during lunch.

She had taken to eating with him ( _“seriously, what kind of loser sits alone? oh gods, budge over, Frost”)_ and had even invited Henry over a couple of times. The two of them had caught on to the fact that Jack didn’t care to speak much and avoided small talk at all costs, but they had also seemed to pick up on the fact that he enjoyed the company.

In turn, Jack had learned a lot about the two of them. He learned that Henry was an actual _genius_ , he loved books, wore hideous sweaters, worshiped Lord of the Rings, and had a total crush on Astrid Hofferson. 

Merida had never used a hairbrush in her life (okay maybe he made _that_ one up), she loved horses, was Anglo-Catholic, cosplayed any and every medieval themed movie ever, and could quote Shakespeare. Not sentences or phrases. _Actual sections_ and _chapters_.

She was also as remarkably perceptive as Henry.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure.” Merida glances over to where Rapunzel and Henry are sitting with Fredrick and Heather. “You could just…talk to her?”

“I don’t do well with people,” he replies, dully.

Merida snorts. “Yeah no kidding,” she says ( _hypocrite)._ “We need to work on that.”

               

* * *

 

Apparently Merida’s definition of _working on that_ is inviting both of them to hang out at the mall with her.

Up ahead as Merida and Henry are geeking out over some fantasy game, Jack attempts to have a normal conversation with Rapunzel. Which is…hard considering the first and only time they’d spoken was in the middle of him flipping out on her while she was petting his hair.

Yeah.

Somehow (he’s not totally sure _how_ ) they end up breaking the ice and she launches into this rant all about how she wants to be a nurse and save lives and take care of people and it’s so passionate and sweet Jack thinks he might be falling just a little bit in love with her.

She ends up embarrassed over her impassioned outburst, which makes him laugh.

“So, Jack,” she says, with a nudge. “What kind of a person are you?”

The two of them watch Merida squeal and hug and then _punch_ Henry when he offers to buy her the latest release of _Skyrim_.

Jack smiles. “Care to find out?”

_He was always good at being mysterious and enigmatic._

 

* * *

 

“Ask her out already!” Merida groans.

Henry blushes. “I _can’t_ ,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Jack and Rapunzel exchange smirks across the table.

“The Spring Dance is coming up,” Rapunzel says. “Ask her out.”   

“ _No,_ I _can’t!_ ”

“ _Why?”_

“Why? _Why?!_ ” Henry sputters. “Because she’s _Astrid Hofferson!_ ”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?”

Rapunzel stifles a laugh. “Henry’s been crushing on her since first grade, Jack,” she says, as if it explains everything.

Jack sighs. “Well you’re never gonna know if she likes you unless you ask her. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity,” Henry deadpans.

Jack eyes him for a moment.

“Stop. Stop that. I don’t like that look,” Henry says, sounding panicked all the sudden.

“He’s right. That look spells trouble,” Rapunzel murmurs, looking equally disturbed.

Merida grins. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Frost?”

               

* * *

 

“I hate you all. Especially you Jack.”

“Girl’s _love_ flowers.”

“I _don’t!_ ”

“Who said you were a girl?”

“Shut it, Frost!”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“No one leaves flowers and a poem in peoples’ lockers.”

“They do in movies!”

“That’s not the point!”

“This can only end in tears.”

 

* * *

 

“She’s actually been crushing on him since last year,” Merida informs Jack. It’s evening now and he’s walking her home, since Henry had been cornered by Astrid a few hours ago.  

Jack chuckles. “The blonde hottie and the nerd. Oh gosh, we’re in a High School drama.”

Merida laughs with him. “Now we just need to set you and Rapunzel up.”

He rolls his eyes. “Merida, come on.”

“Oh please, she likes you. Trust me, I have a six sense about these things. And now that the two of you are actually talking…”

“Yeah yeah, I get it.”

They stop at her door. “You’ll get home fine, right?” she asks, looking concerned. It suddenly occurs to him that neither Henry, Merida, nor Rapunzel have ever asked where he lives. He suddenly wonders if that’s on purpose.

He swallows and nods. “See you tomorrow.”

               

* * *

 

_There’s pain digging into his back like ice or glass maybe and a pair of cruel silver eyes watching him, always watching him those beautiful silver eyes, smooth as liquid, unpredictable as quicksilver, greedy as sin, always seeing him always seeing through him._

_“I understand you,” the voice hisses intimately soft in his ear. There’s a pair of hands gently caressing his hair which is wrong wrong wrong, there was nothing ever gentle about them._

_A pair of wet lips brush his ear.  “I_ am _you.”_

He wakes up screaming.

 

* * *

 

“You look terrible,” Merida comments, as she slips into the seat next to him in Biology 101.

He grunts noncommittally and continues doodling a snowflake on his paper. “What’s the news on Henry and Astrid?”

Merida grins.

 

* * *

 

“—and then she said that while my poetry sucked she thought was cute and would go out with me,” Henry finishes dreamily.

The four of them are hanging out at the Lucky Cat Café that afternoon. It’s a pleasant place that’s slowly turning into their personal afterschool haunt.

“Your poetry _does_ suck,” Merida agrees, dumping more chocolate than necessary on her sundae.

Henry affectionately elbows her. “I can’t believe she said yes. Oh gods, what if it’s horrible? I can’t even dance! Guys, what if—”

“First of all, if you stay calm, you’ll be fine,” Rapunzel interrupts. “Second, its three weeks ahead, so you can plan for every possible scenario.”

“Punze!” both Jack and Merida whine in unison.

“Now we have to put up with him freaking out about ‘every possible scenario’ for the next three weeks,” Merida mutters.

 

* * *

              

_He’s shouting. He screaming. He’s telling him to run._

_Run_

_Run_

_Run far away_

_A pair of equally terrified eyes stare back at him before they disappear into the night._

* * *

 

“Did you sleep last night?” Henry asks him on the way to class.

Jack rubs his bloodshot eyes. “Unfortunately,” he mutters.

“What?” Henry frowns.                

“Nothing,” Jack quickly replies. “Did you see Astrid today?” he asks, changing the subject.

Henry goes with the subject change so easily that Jack almost doesn’t notice the worried glances he’s sending his way. Almost.

 

* * *

 

“But you like her!” Merida pouts. The two of them are lying on her bed, finishing up their history homework.

“She’s just a friend,” Jack mutters.  

Merida grunts. “Sure. And I love pink dresses and tiaras.”

Jack rolls his eyes to hide that he’s laughing. “I don’t even like school dances. I mean, really? Let’s put a bunch of hormonal teenagers in one room with _way_ to many caffeinated beverages and _hope_ they don’t end up making out or having sex in empty classrooms.”

“But there’s free food!”

He snorts. “If I ask her, will you lay off?”

Merida elbows him. “Just ask her. I’m tired of looking at you follow her around like a lost puppy.”

               

* * *

 

_Safe. They’re all safe._

_As pain digs into his back and the ice cold wind cuts through his bones all he can think of all he can focus on is the fact that they’re safe they’re all safe and everything’s going to be okay now isn’t it?_

_Everything is definitely not okay._

* * *

 

“I’m starting to think you never sleep,” Rapunzel says, peering at the bags under his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Mmpph.” Jack buries his head in his arms as he sprawls across his desk.

A cool hand is on his forehead. He leans into unconsciously before catching himself and pulling away.

“I’m fine,” he croaks. “Bad night.”

He most definitely does not notice to worried looks his friends exchange over lunch at his silence.

* * *

 

_He doesn’t know why he’s getting worse all of the sudden. He was getting better, getting used to other people, interacting with other people, making friends so what’s triggering the panic attacks and nightmares none of this makes any sense—_

He eventually opens up to his therapist. She doesn’t stop him, doesn’t try to slow him down: just listens for a solid hour as he rants about everything and anything that comes to mind. _Pitch_. Emily. Jamie. Rapunzel. _Pitch_. Henry. Merida. Foster homes. Berk High. _Pitch_.

He’s gasping and sweating when he’s done and there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder. A pair of brown eyes are probing his own.

“Jack,” Dr. Harmada says. “Have you told your friends about your condition?”

 

* * *

 

He’s on the roof again. Peering down at the deathly drop that awaits him. The wind howls, blustering around him, chilling him to the bone.

_A gnarled hand is dragging him into the darkness._

_Traitor, traitor, the voice hisses, dangerously—intimately—in his ear. You set them free._

Snow is falling. It’s beautiful. When’s the last time he’s seen snow?       

_There’s iron bands around his wrists, holding him down. He feels exposed, naked. Vulnerable._

He walks along the ledge. It’s slippery. He needs to be careful.

_A knife, or a shard of glass, or a sliver of ice cuts gracefully into the skin of his back. If everything wasn’t drowned out by the deafening screams of pain, he’d reflect on the talent Pitch has for carving and sculpting._

_“_ Jack! _Jack!”_ a voice is shouting. There’s a warm hand on his shoulder, dragging him away from the ledge, away from the roof, away from the cold, away from his memories. When his vision comes back and his breathing calms, he finds himself looking into a pair of blue eyes.

Merida throws her arms around him.

“Merida, you’re going to suffocate him!” Rapunzel scolds. The redhead quickly pulls away. Jack finds himself looking up at three worried faces.

Rapunzel reaches out to touch him and he _flinches_ violently. Looking startled and hurt, she pulls away.

“Jack—”

He stands up quickly. “I…I have to go,” he stammers out. Before any of them can reach him he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

He expects Rapunzel to find him out of pity or Merida to search for him out of misplaced worry. To say that he’s surprised that Henry is the one that finds him is an understatement.

As the two of them sit on the park bench, watching the snow fall, Jack feels strangely detached from everything. It’s quiet, cold, and peaceful.

“I read about you,” Henry finally said, his voice low. Jack doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Just listens to Henry’s gentle drawl and the beat of his own heart throbbing in his ears. _(run run run)_

“You were in the news,” he continues. “No names, of course, because you’re a minor. But my Mom’s a therapist so I guess she helped treat you for a while. After I meet you, I got her to fill in the blanks.” _(a pair of familiar green eyes stare at him. she tries to get him to talk, but it’s too soon way to soon he can’t talk about this yet he needs more time)_

Jack glances at Henry out of the corner of his eye. The redhead is awkwardly running a hand through his already mussed hair. He looks mildly uncomfortable, but goes on anyway.

“I remember reading about the kid who rescued his sister and the other children from the Pitch Kidnapper.” Henry looked up at Jack. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

The two of them stare at each other. Jack swallows painfully. His eyes feel wet and sting in the cold.

“I had to save her,” he whispers, dropping his gaze.

He finds himself pulled to the best hug he’s ever had. “You are an idiot,” Henry whispers fiercely.

“Yeah,” Jack mumbles into his friend’s warm shoulder.

               

* * *

 

Merida doesn’t say anything as Jack falls into step next to her. They’re going to be late to school, at the pace they’re walking at, but neither of them make an attempt to speed up.

Finally, just as Jack is about to break the silence, Merida slips her hand into his.

He glances at her.

She’s looking pointedly away.

His hand tightens around hers.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” both he and Rapunzel say at the same time.

Both of them end up laughing. A bit awkwardly, but laughing just the same.

“Are you okay?” she finally asks.

 _No_ , he thinks. _But I will be._

Instead of answering, he asks her out on a date.

 

* * *

 

“Oh. My. Gosh. You ASKED her?” Merida all but shrieks in his ear.

Jack sighs. “Yes, I told you I would, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think she’d say yes!” Merida crows.

He stares at her. “You _said_ she was into me!” he sputters.

“Oh. I was lying.”

Jack slaps a hand to his forehead ( _so it’s a little dramatic, shut up)._ “Why am I friends with you again?”

“My irresistible blue eyes,” Merida replies, knowingly.

 

* * *

 

He’s not nervous. This is just a dance. He’s faced far worse. There is absolutely _nothing_ to be nervous about taking a friend to a social gathering, right?

“Well don’t you just clean up pretty?”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shut up, Frost.” Merida messes with his jacket. “You’re worse than Henry.”

“Hey!”

“Children,” Eleanor chides.

“Okay, we’re good to go,” Merida says. “Henry, you better be heading over to Astrid’s about now.”

Henry turns pale. “I can’t do this.”

“Jack and I will pick up Rapunzel,” Merida continues, over her cousin.

“Wait, why are you coming along?” Jack asks. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of a _date_?”

“I’m not going _alone_ ,” Merida snorts. “And besides, if I’m gonna be third-wheeling it with you guys the rest of my life, I’d better get used to it now.”

 

* * *

 

He’s had way too much caffeine. In fact, he’s pretty sure he was _supposed_ to lay off the caffeine. Either way, he feels extremely daring and hyped.

The four of them, plus Astrid, are walking along the edge of the city. The stars, usually hidden by the bright lights, are shining brightly in the dark heavens. Rapunzel’s arm his looped through his, Astrid and Henry are holding hands, and Merida skips ahead of them, taking pictures of _everything_ with her phone.

He’s staring into a pair of green eyes.

_He’s falling in them. So beautiful. So bright._

He’s standing on the edge of something. Happiness? Contentment? Peace? He’s standing on the edge of it, but this time he’s not staring at the ground in morbid fascination. No. He’s staring at the sky. It’s open. It’s free. It’s calling.

One step. Just one.

A pair of warm lips meet his.

 

* * *

 

_Do not stand at my grave and weep_

_I am not there; I do not sleep._

_I am a thousand winds that blow,_

_I am the diamond glints on the snow,_

_I am the sun on ripened grain,_

_I am the gentle autumn rain._

_When you awaken in the morning's hush_

_I am the swift uplifting hush_

_Of quiet birds in circled flight._

_I am the soft stars that shine at night._

_Do not stand at my grave and cry,_

_I am not there; I did not die._

 

 _~Mary Elizabeth Frye_             

               

 

               

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Criticism are welcomed.


End file.
